


Good Morning ☆

by QueenNeehola



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9841991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenNeehola/pseuds/QueenNeehola
Summary: Eichi wakes up next to Wataru.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Absolutely plotless tiny fluff that came to me all at once and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. Enjoy!

Eichi isn’t sure what wakes him up.  It could be the early morning light filtering through the gap in the curtains and falling across his pillow, or the slightly stifling weight of another’s limbs pressed between his own—or, he supposes, as consciousness returns to him in slow, viscous dribs and drabs, it’s really more likely to be the incessant shuffling of the body next to him as they turn to cling ever closer, and the tickling irritation of their hair as it falls across his nose and cheek.

 

When Eichi opens his eyes, Wataru is _there_ , as Wataru often is—impossibly close and impossibly _bright_ , too, his smile a thousand watts more blinding than the watery light creeping in from outside.

“Good morning! ☆” he sings, rocking closer.  He doesn’t pause for breath before he continues, lurching into his usual type of spiel despite the ungodly hour.  “How are you feeling, my Emperor?  Well, I hope?  No matter, for even the most grave of afflictions is no match for the magic of I, your very—”

“My _very own Hibiki Wataru_ , right?”  Eichi finishes for him, punctuating the question with a yawn.  “You really don’t have to say it every time.”

 

Dismay etches itself onto Wataru’s face then, and in his sleepy state Eichi thinks for a moment it’s genuine—until he sees the comically exaggerated downturn of Wataru’s eyebrows, the caricature of a frown across his lips, as blatant as any of his ridiculous masks.

Eichi sighs, soft and fond, and leans in to press his forehead to Wataru’s, snaking his cold hands up the warmth of the other boy’s back.  “And good morning to you as well, Wataru.”


End file.
